by Leenie Brown
Mr. Bennet chuckled. “Then, I should think we should arrange ourselves in the sitting room in such a way as to thwart her advances?”
“Just so, sir.” Rycroft smiled and turned to Kitty and Mary. “Will you ladies be of assistance?”
Kitty wrapped her arms around Mary’s arm. “We would be delighted, would we not, Mary?”
Mary’s cheeks had taken on a light shade of pink causing Rycroft to wonder if she was irritated by the thought or if she were actually delighted.
“Of course.” The response was quick as if said without a thought. Then Rycroft saw her give Kitty a small smile that seemed to contain a secret before she continued, “Perhaps Colonel Fitzwilliam could help as well. He is planning to call.”
Kitty’s eyes grew wide, and she darted an uneasy glance at Rycroft. “That would be lovely.”
No, it would not be lovely, thought Rycroft ─ not if the secret smiles and looks between Mary and Kitty indicated what he feared . . . that his cousin had earned the place in Mary’s heart that he desired for himself. But though is heart was sinking, he smiled and agreed before entering the sitting room, where after greeting Mrs. Bennet and her sister and then helping Mr. Bennet to a chair, he took a seat in a grouping of four chairs with Mary on his right.
Mary placed her hand on his arm for just a moment, drawing his attention to her. “I am glad to see you,” she whispered.
“Are you as glad to see me as you are to see my cousin?” He tried to keep his tone light and teasing.
Mary’s eyes did not leave his face as she considered just how happy she was to see him. She shook her head at the foolishness of missing someone so much when they had been apart for such a short time. A smile crept onto her lips. “My lord, as hard as it may be to believe, I have missed your taunting, so I believe I am more glad to see you than your cousin. The colonel is pleasing company, but he is far more polite than I have grown accustomed to in this past week.”
Rycroft chuckled. “I do endeavour to be polite, but you are most provoking.”
“I?” Mary laughed softly. “No, my lord, it is not I who is most provoking.” She had raised her left eyebrow, and her eyes twinkled. It was an expression that he adored.
“You are too charming by half, Miss Mary,” he said dryly.
She tipped her head as if acknowledging a great compliment. “Thank you, my lord.”
Kitty coughed lightly and tipped her head toward the door where Richard was entering with the Bingleys.
Mary bit her lip and looked to Rycroft, “Could you draw his attention?”
“It is what you want?”
Rycroft’s expression confused Mary. There was an uneasiness in his eyes and a slight furrow between his brows. “It is what we want.” She emphasized the word we as she darted a look at Kitty. “Unless you would rather give the chair to Miss Bingley.”
“Please.” Kitty’s plea was soft, her eyes imploring, and her cheeks rosy.
Rycroft smiled as understanding dawned on him. It was not Mary but her sister who wished the company of his cousin. “I would rather not encourage Miss Bingley,” he said as he motioned for Richard to join them. He allowed his hand to brush Mary’s arm as her chair was close enough to do so without being obvious. Although he knew his feelings for her, it would not do to let the rest of the room know before he had spoken to Mary.
The touch startled Mary in a most agreeable way. A slight shiver ran up her arm and down to her fingers. Her eyes were drawn to his face. The slight smile on his lips and the quick lifting and lowering of his brow told her that it had not been an accidental touch. The thought caused her heart to quicken and brought a smile to her face.
He leaned a bit closer to her and spoke softly so that only she could hear. “Miss Bingley has no hope with me, for my heart belongs to another.” Once again he allowed his hand to brush her arm. “I only hope I have a chance of success with the lady.” There was a question not only in his voice but also his eyes.
Mary’s eyes grew wide, and she opened her mouth to reply, though her mind was unsure of what she would say.
Rycroft shook his head. “I have shocked you, I am afraid. Please do not answer now. Just consider me.”
“Of course.” Mary nodded her head, which was swirling.
“Thank you,” said Rycroft as he stood to clap his cousin on the shoulder before giving him a quick embrace.
Mary sat quietly for much of the conversation, listening intently to the interaction between the two cousins and watching the way Rycroft treated Kitty. Yes, he was handsome, titled, and wealthy ─ three things that all ladies longed for in a match, yet these qualities were not sufficient for her. As she continued her observation, her heart spoke to her of what she believed to be true. She was certain that, though it may not have always been true, he was now a man of good character, a man worthy of consideration. It would be a good match she decided, and with time and a bit of good fortune, perhaps she could grow to love him.
Chapter 10
Rycroft settled into a chair near the fire in Netherfield’s drawing room and opened a book. He had made certain to draw the chair away from the others, separating himself, he hoped, from any possible conversations. He did not wish to discuss his reasons for travelling to Hertfordshire any longer, and he knew that Bingley and his sister, in particular, would not stop their questioning until they had gotten the full story. Apparently, the need to see Mr. Bennet and deliver some news was not reason enough to quell their curiosity. In fact, it seemed that it had only incited it. He sighed as he watched Darcy draw Bingley aside. Bingley listened intently to Darcy and then turned to look at him. Rycroft nodded. He was sure that the most trustworthy of the Bingley siblings now knew that Mary was his true reason for arriving unannounced.
He let his eyes fall to the page of his book, but his mind was not particularly interested in the words that the author had written. It was more pleasantly engaged in contemplating Mary. She had been surprised at first by his declaration, but her actions toward him did not seem to discourage his suit. In fact, she had eagerly agreed to his calling the next day.
“Sister,” Caroline was saying in an exaggerated whisper. “What we heard today in the village is true.”
Louisa gasped softly. “Indeed? Pray, how do you know?”
“Miss Lydia said that a letter was delivered to her sister, and the stable hand told Mrs. Phillips that the messenger was paid handsomely to ensure that news of the delivery was shared. It was from a wealthy gentleman in London.”
“Is there a secret engagement?” asked Louisa, leaning eagerly toward her sister.
Rycroft held his breath as he waited for the reply.
“No.” Caroline’s tone was one of great disapproval “What lady accepts a letter from a lover without an understanding?”
Louisa sighed. “If you consider how her sister snared Mr. Darcy, you should not be surprised. It seems the Bennet ladies have a lack of scruples.” She clucked her tongue and shook her head. “I do not know what Charles is thinking, tying himself to such a family.”
Rycroft snapped his book closed and leveled a very displeased look at Bingley’s sisters. “A lack of scruples?” He gave a short bitter laugh. “Unlike you who repeat tales as fact even though they were first told by a man paid to tell them? Not only do the two of you lack scruples, you quite obviously lack intelligence.” He rose. “If you will excuse me, I would rather not have my reading disturbed by the babblings of a harpy.” He spotted a chair in the opposite corner of the room and headed toward it.
Bingley sighed as he watched Rycroft obviously scold his sisters and find another chair. “I wish he had at least a small measure of your patience,” he said to Darcy. “Do I apologize to him or speak to my sisters?”
Darcy chuckled. “I would not wish to speak with them at present. I do not believe I have ever seen them quite so displeased. His scolding must have been harsh indeed.” He looked to where Elizabeth was sitting. She had taken a place that was removed from where he s
poke with Bingley but was not too near Caroline or Louisa. He could tell that she had heard the exchange and was working hard to contain her emotions for her lower lip was between her teeth; her eyes blinked rapidly as if trying to contain tears, and her hands clutched her book tightly. Darcy cleared his throat, drawing her attention. Then, with a smile and small tip of his head called her to him.
“I believe my wife may be able to be of assistance.” He took her hand and placed it between his. “Elizabeth, do you know what made my cousin so angry?”
“Gossip,” she whispered.
He heard the waver in her voice and without a care for what others might say, pulled her closer to his side.
She glanced nervously behind her to where Caroline and Louisa sat.
“Do not worry about them,” he said softly.
“You did not hear what they said,” she replied. “Apparently, I snared you and due to the letter that was sent to Mary, we Bennet ladies are without scruples.”
Darcy turned toward the sound of Richard’s groan. “You know of this?”
Richard’s brows drew together. “You know of it?”
“I know of a letter,” he replied cautiously.
“She did not read it,” said Richard. “She gave it to her father, and he read it. She did not even consider his offer.”
“I do not know of this,” said Bingley.
Darcy sighed. “Blackmoore offered a courtship. His plan is to marry her to please his father and keep his inheritance. But,” he darted a glance toward Rycroft, “Rycroft learned that Blackmoore has no intention of breaking off his relationship with a particular actress. It is why he is here ─ to inform Mr. Bennet of Blackmoore’s character.”
“And, based on what I observed today, to court Miss Mary,” said Richard.
Darcy shrugged. “Aye, that, too.”
Bingley blew out a breath. “And my sister is displeased and attempting to discredit Miss Mary, but,” his brows drew together, “how did she learn of the letter?”
“The messenger was paid to spread the news,” said Rycroft, who had been watching the conversation and had come to join it, knowing full well it was about him.
“And my aunt was most willing to share the information.” Elizabeth turned to Rycroft. “Does my sister know about Mr. Blackmoore?”
He shook his head. “I only spoke to your father.”
“Then, I shall call on her first thing tomorrow while you gentlemen are off riding.”
Darcy shook his head. “I will attend you.”
“But my mother will be busy with preparations for the night’s dinner.”
“And your father will be pleased to hear something other than a female voice.”
Elizabeth laughed. “That is very true, so you have my permission to attend me.”
“Thank you, my dear,” said Darcy. “Would you care to join me, Rycroft?”
“No, no. Miss Mary expects me later, and if I have learned one thing from my mother and your sister, it is that you do not surprise a lady outside of calling hours. It was quite the lengthy diatribe, but there was something in there about proper gowns and hair.” He chuckled. “They did not appreciate my theory that such a call was most beneficial since a gentleman should know what he will see each morning.”
This earned laughter from all who were gathered, but when it had died, Rycroft became serious once more. “Her reputation,” he said.
“It may be tarnished for a time,” said Elizabeth softly.
“And if I call on her or offer for her, will it make it better or worse?”
Elizabeth smiled as she watched him rub his hands in circles on his knees just as her husband did when nervous. “My aunt will assume that it was you who sent the letter and when she makes an assumption, it is not long before all of Meryton will know.”
“So, I should not call on her?”
Elizabeth leaned towards him and placed a hand on his. “You should do what your heart tells you. Believe me when I say fighting it is not worth the battle.” She gave his hand a pat. “She would not be the first Bennet lady to endure the whispers of Meryton.” She tilted her head to the side and gave him a playful look. “Mr. Bingley is giving a ball, and he has a very nice library. One rumor is often forgotten when another is begun.” This drew a laugh from them all.
“If it becomes necessary,” said Rycroft as he rose. “I think I shall take my book to bed.” He cast a look in Caroline’s direction. “The door will be locked and a piece of furniture against it, so if there is an emergency during the night, you will need a couple of stout footmen to help you gain entrance.”
Bingley chuckled. “I can have Hurst return to town earlier than planned.”
“No,” said Rycroft, “I should like her to witness her defeat.” He smiled wryly. “I just pray I am successful.”
~*~*~*~*~*~
Mary’s mouth hung open, and she looked at her sister in disbelief. She could not believe that the intentions of Mr. Blackmoore had been so dishonorable.
“Lord Rycroft learned of it two days ago and immediately came to tell Mr. Darcy and me. And then when he learned of the letter that had been sent, he was on his horse and gone before a half hour had passed.”
“Are all men so devious?” asked Mary.
“What do you mean?” asked Elizabeth.
“Do you remember Roger?”
Elizabeth nodded. “He seemed quite smitten with you.”
“But he was not.” She blew out a breath and fought the tears that gathered. “I slipped out to meet him one morning ─ it was the first time I had agreed to do so ─ and I arrived at our meeting place earlier than planned.” A tear slid down her cheek. “He was there with someone else. I turned and ran and avoided him as best I could for the remainder of his stay in Hertfordshire.”
Elizabeth gathered Mary into her arms. “And now, Mr. Blackmoore has done the same.” She said it softly as she stroked Mary’s hair. “Not all men are dishonorable. Papa, Mr. Darcy, Uncle Gardiner, Colonel Fitzwilliam, Mr. Bingley and…” she pulled back slightly to look into Mary’s face, “and Lord Rycroft are all honorable men. They are not perfect for they are as human as we are, but they are trustworthy and good. And I believe Lord Rycroft is in love with you.” She sat for some minutes with her arms wrapped around Mary and her chin resting on top of Mary’s head. “Mary,” she said at last, “how do you feel about Lord Rycroft?”
Mary sighed a long drawn out sigh that was obviously filled with confusion. “He is agreeable, even if he does vex me at times, and he is kind.” She sighed again. “He does not know it, but I have seen him lend a hand to a footman who was struggling to move a piece of furniture. And all of his servants seem content and at ease. And Georgiana adores him and he, her. I believe she could ask for the moon, and he would attempt to get it for her.” She tilted her head to see Elizabeth. “Papa seems to approve of him.”
“A very good sign,” said Elizabeth with a laugh, releasing Mary from her embrace.
Mary crossed the room to get a fresh handkerchief. As she did so, she passed the parcel that Elizabeth had brought. “Oh,” she cried, “my gown! I had nearly forgotten you brought it.” The handkerchief was forgotten for the moment as Mary opened the parcel and lifted the dress out with great care. “It is beautiful,” she whispered as she held it up in front of her.
“It is,” agreed Elizabeth. “The detail is lovely.” She ran a finger gently over the small red roses that adorned the neckline and sleeves of the cream coloured material. There were more rose embellishments at the hem and a frothy ruffle that made the dress seem as if it was rising from a cloud. “You shall outshine all in attendance.”
“Are you and Jane not attending?”
Elizabeth was glad to hear the teasing tone of Mary’s voice. “We are, but this dress is truly exquisite.”
“He chose it.” Mary’s cheeks took on a rosy hue. “I was struggling to make a decision about which dresses to order, and Lord Rycroft took the book from me, flipped through it and m
arked every dress I should choose and told me which colours for a few.”
Elizabeth shook her head in disbelief. “A gentleman chose this dress?”
Mary nodded. “And nearly all of my new wardrobe. His taste is superb. Uncle will like him.” She hung the dress carefully in her wardrobe. “He even asked Lord Brownlow’s sister for a riding habit for me to wear since he guessed we were close in size.” She turned to Elizabeth. “He was right. The habit fit as if it had been made for me.”
“You must accept him then if he offers,” teased Elizabeth. “A man of such talent must not be refused.”
Mary giggled but soon grew serious. “He would be a good match for me. I believe I would be happy.”
“So you will accept him?”
Mary nodded. “If he offers ─.”
“He will,” interrupted Elizabeth with a smile.
Mary scowled. “If,” she emphasized the word, “he offers, I believe I will. It is not too fast, is it? I mean, I have only known him for a very short period of time.”
Elizabeth smiled at Mary’s look of confusion. It was a familiar look, for she had worn it not long ago before she recognized the feeling that caused it was love. “Who do you think of first in the day? And last before you go to sleep?” Her smile grew as Mary’s eyes grew wide. “I shall tell you what Aunt told me. Be brave, my dear sister. Do not let those feelings frighten you, for they will lead to a very happy life for you as they have for me.” She gave Mary another hug. “Now, our mother may have need of us. Although I fear if her nerves are not the end of her, they will be the end of me.” She opened the door. “It is pleasant being the mistress of your own home instead of the assistant to your mother. It is far less trying to one’s nerves.”
~*~*~*~*~*~
Mary wrapped her shawl about her shoulders more tightly. She wished to light a fire, but since her reprieve from her mother would only be of a short duration, she chose a blanket for her legs and a shawl for her shoulders. She pulled her feet up under her and leaned her head against the large wing of the chair. A few moments of quiet were what she desired above all before their guests arrived. She knew that few, other than her father, would think of looking in this room for her. It was a small sitting room, tucked away behind her father’s study, and, due to its closeness to his sanctuary, it was to remain strictly quiet. Therefore, it was a safe haven for reading and thinking. She allowed her eyes to close, and she drew a deep relaxing breath.